


The Here and Now

by CaptainLeBubbles



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-03 23:38:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10261610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainLeBubbles/pseuds/CaptainLeBubbles
Summary: Grif and Bitters have a moment alone after everything is said and done.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a fandom tag I haven't used in awhile.
> 
> Found this in my archive and decided it belonged here.

Bitters finds Grif outside of the makeshift hospital, leaning on a railing with a cigarette in one hand. He glances at Bitters when his lieutenant approaches, but goes back to staring off at the distance without a word. Bitters takes this to mean it’s okay he’s here- it’s taken him awhile, but he’s learned to understand his captain’s body language a little better, and the things he doesn’t say.

“Sir? I know you’re probably tired of hearing this after Matthews, but I wanted to thank you. For, you know, sticking around. It really means a lot that you did.”

Grif doesn’t say anything to that; he sets the cigarette between his lips and reaches into his armor for the rest of the pack, holds it out in offering to Bitters without a word. Bitters takes the offering just as silently, and the lighter that follows, and for a long moment the pair smoke together in silence.

“Hey Bitters,” Grif says, after awhile. “You ever wonder why we’re here?”

“One of life’s great mysteries, isn’t it?” Bitters says. He wonders why Grif is asking.

“It used to keep me up at night,” he goes on. “Wondering if there was a god or what. If it was a coincidence or there was some kind of reason. But I think I’ve got it figured out.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I figured out that _it doesn’t matter_ why we’re here. What matters is that we _are_ here. Here, right now, in this moment.” He glances back at the makeshift hospital, alive with the sounds of wounded being tended. “Cause tomorrow we might _not_ be here.”

Bitters follows his gaze. He thinks he can guess what’s on his captain’s mind.

“Matthews is gonna be okay, sir. He’s always pulled through.”

“I know. He’s a cockroach. The universe will always spare Matthews.” He drops the stub of his cigarette and stomps it out. “Do me a favor and don’t tell Simmons I was smoking, okay? He’ll just bitch at me for it.”

“Yeah, sure.”

They fall silent again, Grif staring back off into the distance while Bitters finishes his own cigarette. Behind them, the door opens and the gruff voice of Colonel Sarge calls out.

“Hey, Dirtbag! Dirtbag, Jr! Get in here, the Docs are looking for you!”

Bitters sighs, and stubs out his cigarette in the ash tray near the railing. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you want to save him so badly? I mean, you both hate each other so much.”

“Nah.”

“What?”

“We don’t hate each other.”

“But he’s always so cruel to you…”

A shrug. Grif lights up another cigarette, a clear indication that he has no intention of following the summons. Bitters watches him, wonders if he should go alone or stay out here in some kind of solidarity. Maybe Grif will get into less trouble if they both don’t go.

“You can go if you want,” Grif says. “They’re probably about to wake up Matthews and want someone there with him when they do.”

“You’re not coming?”

“I’ll catch up.” He takes a long drag on his cigarette, letting a lazy train of smoke disappear up into the cool air. Bitters hesitates, but turns to go in. He could bring himself to disobey a man like Sarge- who treats Grif even more poorly than Grif treats his own subordinates, and is probably the reason for it- but he can’t bear the thought of Matthews waking up and him not being there.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More alone time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Found this one, wanted to bring it over too.

There are things Bitters doesn’t understand about his captain. Like why Grif has been hovering around the little makeshift hospital, asking after Matthews every time someone leaves his room, but has refused to actually go in and see him. Or why he says he and the Colonel don’t actually hate each other when they do nothing but insult and threaten each other relentlessly.

“Sir? Can I sit here?” Bitters approaches the chair Captain Grif is napping in. Grif opens one eye and waves toward the chair next to his, then closes his eye again. He’s snoring softly, but it’s not a deep sleep- he’ll wake up if Bitters starts talking. For someone who does almost nothing but sleep, Captain Grif doesn’t sleep very deeply. Bitters learned that early on.

For awhile, Bitters is content to sit in silence, outside Matthews’ door, waiting for visiting hours when he can see Matthews again. Wondering if that will be the time that Grif actually goes inside to see him. His thoughts are getting him antsy, though, and after a moment he breaks the silence, draws Grif out of his doze.

“Can I ask you something?”

Grif opens his eyes, but doesn’t change his position. “You can ask.”

No answers promised. Well. “I was just wondering… why did you stay? On Chorus, I mean. You could have left. You didn’t have to risk your neck for us. It wasn’t even your fight.”

Grif is silent for a long time. Bitters waits, gives him time, but eventually decides that he’s not going to get an answer. He supposes it’s fair. It’s a personal question.

“Why do you fight?” Grif says, quite suddenly. “I’ve heard you. You don’t think it matters. That you’re just going to all be killed. So why keep putting off the inevitable?”

This catches Bitters off-guard. He struggles with the thought, trying to put it into words. “There’s- little things, I guess. Stuff that makes it worth putting off. I don’t know how to explain it but- sometimes I think about how things would have been if it weren’t for the war- and what everyone can be- and- I guess I want to see what we become.”

Grif snorts. “Ever heard of Amity?”

“No.” The name rings a vague bell- a planet, he thinks, but he doesn’t remember the context. One planet from a list of many. “What is it?”

“Was,” Grif says. “It _was_ a colony, until the Great War. Now it’s a pile of rubble. A mass grave.” He digs into his armor for his cigarettes, puts one between his lips. Starts hunting for his lighter.

Bitters frowns. Remembers Grif has been serving for a long time. Remembers that he served in the Great War. “…any survivors?” he asks.

Grif finds his lighter, and takes a long drag before he answers. “One. Just one. Just one lazy, good for nothing soldier, who didn’t even want to be there in the first place.”

He hauls himself to his feet and heads toward the door. The doctors tend to give him hell when he smokes in the building.

“I stayed ‘cause I didn’t want to add another mass grave to my history,” he says, just before the doors close behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very interested in Grif's history.


End file.
